Ascertainment of The Past
by DrowsyPoet
Summary: Grace Van Pelt and Wayne Rigsby work together on a case including child abuse, and Van Pelt gets some insight on Rigbsy's less than perfect past. When the case shows the more vulnerable side of them, their professionalism might be compromised.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's notes: This is basically just a collection of thought throughout the case from Van Pelt's POV.**

I've seen a lot of stuff for a rookie; drug busts, shoot outs, suicides, and killings that happened right in front of me. I'm not complaining though, not that anyone would listen if I were. There's a fine line between voicing your concerns and being bitchy, and being a woman in a man's world certainly doesn't make the line any easier to walk.

You say "Ow." when you got shot and you're a wuss, you grunt when you punch someone and your weak, and if you even *think* about uttering a single word about being tired, you're unfit to wear a badge. Sure it's hell, but it's what I signed up for when I became a cop.

"Van Pelt?" Lisbon asked sharply, startling me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah Boss?" I responded turning to meet Lisbon's gaze.

"Did you hear a word of what I just said?" I noticed the stress wrinkles on Lisbon's forehead making an appearance, a sure telltale that she's worried about something or another. She raised her eyebrow, as if to repeat the question, and I shook my head slowly before I started sneezing.

"No," I said between sneezes, "I zoned out there for a minute, my bad." Lisbon gave me a once over. I knew she was examining my posture, facial expression, and pupils to check for signs of either lying, or sickness…or lying about sickness.


	2. Chapter 2

After being examined carefully, my verdict was determined. "Go ahead and head home Van Pelt." I opened my mouth to protest, but was cut off by Lisbon "Van Pelt." She said firmly, making it obvious that I was to go home. Now. I sighed and nodded before sneezing several more times, perfectly punctuating Lisbon's situation assessment.

I powered down my computer and gathered my things, secretly terrified of having to sit at home with nothing to but twiddle my thumbs. I walked into the hall and pressed the button to summon the elevator from the underworld.

I stepped in a pressed the button that would take me to the parking garage. Halfway from the elevator to my car, I heard the stair-well door slam shut followed by heavy footsteps. My hand instinctively went to my gun holster as I whirled around to face whoever was running up to me.

Upon turning I found myself looking directly at Rigsby. I let out a sigh of relief and allowed my hand to drop to my side. "You scared me" I admitted feeling slightly sheepish. "What's up?" he help up my cell-phone

"You forgot this" he told me. I looked at it with surprise, I never forgot my cell-phone…in fact I never forgot _anything. _

"Thanks" I said as I took it from his extended hand. He looked at me carefully, trying to mask the intensity of his gaze with a small, concerned smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asked "How are you _really _feeling?" My head hurt, my back ached, my throat was on fire, and I wanted nothing more than to crawl into my bed and stay there for months. **But,** there was no way I was telling him that; he'd drive me home, make me tea, and let me sleep…which was exactly what I needed. So why wasn't I going to let him? I'll let you know when I figure it out.

"I'm a little tired" I finally confessed, knowing Rigsby was too nice a guy to tell anyone else, or to tease me. He nodded thoughtfully at my confession and took a step towards me, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead.

"You're burning up" he murmured, removing his hand. "Do you need me to drive you home?" I came so close to saying 'yes,' nut then I came back to reality; he's my co-worker. Rigsby isn't my friend, he isn't my lover, and he's definitely not my personal nurse.

"No thanks" I declined politely "I'll be fine." His face remained concerned, but he didn't push the issue any further.

"Alright" he said agreeably "Get some rest." I nodded my compliance and we exchanged quick goodbyes before heading in different directions. Me to my car, and Him back to the office. I caught myself smiling several times on my ride home.

"What's wrong with you?" I demanded of myself harshly "You're not in high school anymore."


	3. Chapter 3

So I did what any perfectly capable grown up would do; went home, showered, and crawled under the covers to watch TV. Normal. But….of course…my mind was straying elsewhere; my brain was flooded with unadulterated thoughts of admiration for Wayne…and my heart was experiencing similar things. '_A proper rest will do me good.'_ I thought to myself, running my hands over my notably warm face.

On Monday I walked into the office, immediately attracting the attention of Jane "Ah, Grace" he said flashing me his charming Cheshire cat smile.

"Good morning Jane" I said returning his smile with my own…and hoping it was less creepy than his. Not that his smile is creepy…but just imagine someone smiling at you when **you** know that **they **know exactly what you're thinking, and possibly more.

"Worried I'm leafing through your thoughts again I presume?" He asked with a smart-ass wink aimed at me. I laughed nonchalantly, knowing he could read my body language enough to know I was incredibly guarded when talking to him…and also knowing that he hypnotized me once without my permission to find out what my greatest fear was; having someone read my innermost personal thoughts. Although I don't remember anything else about our little "hypnotizing situation," but I'm fairly certain he now knows what exactly it is I'm afraid of people knowing.

Sure there are the normal embarrassing stories you don't want anybody to know…but despite not being a person to share personal information normally…I have several things I'd like to keep to myself…forever. Is that really so wrong?

"Rigsby, Van Pelt." Lisbon barked stalking out of her office "I need you two on a kidnapping case." She handed the both of us case files "names Johnny Martin; he disappeared about 2 days ago from his bus stop. One of the suspects is Manny Lewis. Go check him out." Rigsby stood, stretching out to his full height.

"You got his boss" he said with a nod of agreement. There's one thing for sure, you could never accuse that man of being un-loyal. I'm fairly certain he would take a bullet for anyone on the team…or anyone for the matter. Wayne…I mean **Rigsby**; is one of the most caring, sweet, loyal men I've ever met…it's so…refreshing. "Ready?" he asked casting me an inquiring look. I nodded and we both walked to the elevator.

"So the suspect is 35, lives alone, and has had previous charges consisting of child pornography, molestation, and domestic violence."

"What a creep." Rigsby muttered under his breath, looking at the case file over my shoulder. My breath caught slightly, and I just **knew **that my body had tensed without my permission. _'Pull yourself together'_ my brain snapped at me, '_he's standing close to you, and you just melt? You're a cop for goodness' sake.'_ I forced my body to relax, and practically sprinted out of the elevator when we reached the parking garage.

"I'll drive." I said as more of a statement than an offer. He nodded his compliance, so we climbed into my jeep.

"So do you feel any better?" he asked me once we were a few minutes into the drive to Lewis' house.

"Huh?" I asked quickly, knowing that my answer came out short and chopped, and that I probably appeared jumpy. "Oh" I said realizing he was referring to Friday. "Yeah, I'm good." I asked "I probably just caught some kind of 24 hour bug."

He nodded prudently "So you're good?" he asked again. I cast a quick glance at him

"Yeah" I said giving a small smile as I turned my attention back to the road "I'm fine."

When we arrived at Manny Lewis' house, I was completely creeped out. "Ugh" I muttered, literally feeling my skin crawl at the sight of the guy's living quarters. It was basically a large shed, with an AC unit sticking out of the only window. There was a hue of dirt surrounding the house, as if he had never taken the time to paint it…or even wash it for that matter. I sniffed the air gingerly, noticing the faint smell of marijuana coming from the house. I shot a look of discomfort at Rigsby, and received one in return.

I started walking towards the house with a hand on my gun, but he put a hand on my shoulder. "I got this one" he said setting his jaw "You cover the back." I nodded and walked around to the back of the…house? I don't know what to call it. It's merely a dirty, grimy, ghoulish little shack to me.

"Mr. Lewis?" Rigsby called knocking on the door. "This is the CBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions." I waited for a brief moment, before un-holstering my gun and raising it cautiously. When Rigsby knocked on the door again, I heard a quick shuffling coming towards me. I braced myself , readying my gun. A large man, who I presumed was Manny Lewis, burst through the door suddenly, searching wildly for a place to run.

"CBI!" I yelled aiming my gun squarely at his chest "Hands where I can see them!" Rigsby quickly came from around the corner, gun drawn as well. The guy had incredibly menacing features, but I wasn't about to be scared…after all, let's not forget who has the gun in this situation. He reluctantly raised both his hands above his heads.

"Get down!" Rigsby yelled at him gesturing downwards with his gun. He reluctantly dropped to his knees, and Rigsby holstered his gun, and cuffed the guy before roughly pulling him up. After we'd locked him in the backseat of the car, I noticed Rigsby kept looking at the house.

"I'm going to go check inside," he told me "I have a feelings…it's just…this is familiar." I was confused, but watched closely as he went into the house – if you could call it that. A moment later he was yelling for me, so I checked that Lewis was still handcuffed, and the car door still locked before sprinting to help him. I stilled instantly upon seeing a beaten and bloodied little blond haired boy.

"Call for help." Rigsby demanded. I did.


	4. Chapter 4

Half an hour later we were sitting in the waiting room of the ER, waiting to hear any news on the boy. "How did you know he was in there?" I asked Rigsby.

"I…I just had a feeling" he muttered running his hand over his face tiredly "The situation was fitting, and it's not like it hasn't happened before. We've seen a lot of cases where children are being held in creepy houses."

"Maybe you have." I replied carefully "But I've never seen any.."

"I just had…a feeling. Ok?" he snapped irritably. I nodded my head, it was obviously a touchy subject for him.

"Sorry" I offered "Didn't mean to pry." His demeanor softened immediately.

"It's okay" he said standing up to pace. The boy we found was Johnny Martin; I suspect that Lewis picked him up at the bus stop and wasn't smart enough to take him somewhere we wouldn't look…which was easier on us. I just can't get his face out of my mind; I've seen people who were beat up before, I've even **seen** them get beaten…but never a child.

His eyes were so full of innocence in the head-shot attached with the case-file…I wondered how they looked now. I wish we had gotten there sooner, prevented the blood, prevented the bruises…but I know I can't blame myself…his pain happened at the hands of a creep. That won't change…but he wasn't dead; that was good.

"Grace?" Rigsby asked, trying to get my attention. I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at him, reading his face to know this wasn't the first time he called my name.

"Yes?" I replied quickly standing.

"Johnny got out of the ER, and his parents are a few minutes away…did you want to go see him?" I didn't. But Wayne did…and I could tell he wanted me to go with him.

"Um…sure" I said following him towards Johnny's hospital room. As we walked into the room, a nurse was wrapping a bandage around his ribcage. As Rigsby cleared his throat, she turned to look at him.

"You must be the officers who found him." She assumed, finishing up with Johnny. "He's very lucky you found him when you did…his injuries aren't sever, but he'll need a few weeks to heal. My mouth was dry, and my voice seemed to be turned off. I looked up at Rigsby to see he felt about the same. "He has two broken ribs, a head wound that is likely the result of a blunt object, and some minor scrapes and cuts."

"Good…good." Rigsby replied seemingly relieved that Johnny's injuries weren't any worse.

"Well, I'll just leave the three of you alone." She said with a cheery smile, quickly vacating the room. Johnny had been watching us closely…his eyes watchful. I almost cried…there was still the innocence that I'd seen in the head shot…matched with a look of distrust. We sat with Johnny until his parents arrived…asking him questions about his friend and his school, trying to make him feel comfortable.

His parents were grateful. Their boy was safe and on his way home. What parent wouldn't be happy? I found myself sitting in the cafeteria with Rigsby, staring blankly into my cup of tea. I looed up at the sound of him sniffing. '_is he…crying?'_

"Are you okay?" I asked carefully, watching his wipe his eyes quickly.

"I'm fine." He said gruffly, coughing to cover up the thick emotion in his voice.

"Do you…do you want to talk about it?" I asked. He shook his head slightly and gave a humorless laugh.

"Sorry" he said sheepishly "I'm normally not an emotional wreck." I smiled slightly, trying to take away from the awkwardness of the situation.

"I'm just glad he's okay" I said, rambling to fill the silence of the situation. "It could've been worse…but you…I'm really glad you had that 'feeling'" He nodded his head and stood up, wiping his eyes once more.

"You ready to go?" he asked, voice still thick. We left. Lisbon was glad we had closed the case with ease, though she seemed slightly upset; her worry wrinkles told me that. I went about the rest of the day as normal; paperwork and phone calls…but I was still worried about Wayne…I mean **Rigsby.**

On my way out of the office I stopped by Lisbon's office to ask her something, though my question was soon forgotten as I peered through the glass door to see her and Rigsby talking. I knew I souldn't be watching…invading their privacy like this…but I couldn't look away. They both appeared upset…which wasn't unusual after tough cases…but still. She lowered her head slightly, and Rigby stood up and hugged her….thy hugged for a while, and when they broke away, I left. _'I'm sure they were just…being nice' _I assured myself, fighting back the beginnings of jealousy. Who am I kidding? I was jealous. _'He'll talk to me when he's ready.'_ I informed myself forcefully '…_if he's ever ready.'_


End file.
